


Supernatural: The Musical Repercussion

by SkylineStarryEyed



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, M/M, No Wincest, Spoilers, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-26 04:30:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2638124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkylineStarryEyed/pseuds/SkylineStarryEyed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean can't get Destiel out of his head. What did those girls know, he wasn't in love with Cas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Supernatural: The Musical Repercussion

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt I saw on tumblr by obsidiandean.  
> Visit their page and show some love: http://obsidiandean.tumblr.com/

It had been about four days since Dean and Sam had left that all girls schools behind and headed back to the bunker. Dean felt relief in the pit of his belly; he was finally back on case work with Sammy. Things weren’t perfect but he was back to normal at the least. Four days passed slowly. He polished his Impala for the fortieth time on the morning of the fourth day and then headed back inside for lunch with Sammy. 

Sam had cooked for them both; grilled cheese. At first they had taken turns cooking, but then they realized that Sam was much better at it even when it came to the little things so Dean only cooked when Sam was stressed or asked him to. Sam sat a paper towel down in front of Dean with the cheesy masterpiece on top and Dean smiled and picked it up.

“How about a beer?” he asked with his mouth full. Sam’s mouth curved in disgust at his cave man of a brother.

“It’s barely one o’clock.” Sam said, but he went to the fridge and grabbed two bottles. Dean cracked his open on the edge of the table and let the cap clink to the floor. He loved to watch the annoyance flicker across Sammy’s face. 

“So, heard from Cas lately?” Sam asked. Dean immediately recognized the laughter in Sam’s tone. For four long days he hadn’t given up on how hilarious he thought “Destiel” was. The first day it was annoying. Sam mentioned it a billion times and laughed every time until he could hardly breathe. The second day he mentioned it every time he could work it slyly into the conversation. He waited until Dean had forgotten and brought it up again. But yesterday, the third day, something had shifted. Sammy didn’t treat it like a punch line anymore. Something was different.

Now, with a mouthful of beer and grilled cheese, Dean pictured it again… “Destiel.” A combination of his and Cas’ names. Him and Cas in love? Dean found himself reconsidering all of the years he had known Cas, their time in purgatory. They were close but he wouldn’t call it love. Somehow Sammy’s change in attitude concerning the matter was what drove Dean crazy.

They finished lunch and went their separate ways; Dean to reassert his heterosexuality and Sam to get some chores done. After a short pause Sam could be heard banging through the bunker. Dean started to hide from him, but it wasn’t worth it. Sam burst into the weapons room to find Sharpening his knife collection.

“Laundry detergent.” Sam said.

“… Ceiling tile.” Dean replied.

“What?”

“Are we not naming compound words?”

“No! Dean, I asked you to get one thing!” Sam’s eyebrows were doing the hilarious thing they did when he got angry where they move up into his hairline. Dean tried not to laugh. “One thing! You remembered beer! You remembered porn!” 

“Look, I’m sorry-”

“No!” Sam held out his hand. “Give me your keys. I’m going into town and I’m getting some freaking laundry detergent because if I live one more day wearing the same pair of jeans I may just die.” Dean just looked at Sam’s outstretched hand. The keys? To the Impala? Absolutely not. But Sam’s face was pink with frustration, and the supermarket was only fifteen minutes away…

“Fine,” Dean surrendered the keys. “But I just detailed her! If you so much as breathe on that new wax job-” Sam was gone. Dean grumbled and went back to sharpening his knives. He would never admit it to Sam, but he was so incredibly relieved to be back to petty arguments. 

Ever since they had reunited some years ago, both of them had been messing up. Sam with the demon blood fiasco and now Dean with the mark of Cain. They always managed to come back together and beat all of the odds, but this time Dean wasn’t sure if they ever could. He had tried to kill Sammy, his baby brother Sammy who he had taken care of his whole life; he tried to kill him with a hammer. Being a demon sucked, the purification process was some of the worst pain Dean had ever felt, but Sammy saying they weren’t brothers anymore? Excruciating. 

Dean finished one knife and put it in the pile, grabbing another. He refused to let himself get emotional. Just as he started grinding the blade to more of a point he heard a voice call out. 

“Dean?” it called. Dean felt his stomach drop in a curious way. 

Destiel…

“In here, Cas!” He replied, swallowing hard to try and soothe his nerves. After a moment Castiel rounded the corner. Dean didn’t look up from his work.

“Hello, Dean.” Cas’ monotone was gruffer than usual. He sounded tired, sapped of his normal angel power. Dean looked up at his and found that usually pensive face bloody and bruised. His coat was torn, angel blade still in hand. 

“Cas?! What the hell, man?” Dean hopped up, letting the knife clatter to the floor. “What happened?”

“Demons…” Cas responded vaguely. Dean decided that could matter later. 

“What’s going on?” Dean demanded. “Why not just heal yourself?” Cas shook his head slowly.

“With my grace being stolen, I have to avoid using power for small things.”

“Small?!” Dean rolled up his sleeves. “Come with me.” He grabbed Cas’ arm and led him to the small bathroom just off the kitchen. He deposited the angel on the edge of the bathtub and started to root around the cabinet until he found the first aid kit. Sammy had done this for him so many times over the years. And he had helped Sam out too. Like cooking, this was something Sam proved to be better at. 

“Thank you, Dean.” Cas smiled, his split lip starting to bleed again at the effort. “I knew you would have human remedies.”

“Yeah. No problem.” Dean muttered. He took a cotton ball and soaked it in alcohol. He was dying to know what had exactly happened to Cas, but if Cas didn’t want to tell him then that was his business. He started to dab the alcohol over Cas’ face, clearing the blood and dirt. The angel winced in pain a few times but didn’t say anything. 

Dean found himself staring at Cas’ face, the bloody mess starting to clear. Those piercing blue eyes trained on the cotton ball traveling around his forehead. His lips, usually pink, were red with blood and split on one side. He had a small gash on his forehead, but nothing worthy of stitches. Once all of the blood was clear, Dean applied cream to the cuts to keep them from becoming infected. He held his breath when his fingers swept across Castiel’s lips. 

Destiel.

“If those girls could see us now.” Dean muttered. Cas raised an eyebrow.

“What girls?” Castiel asked. Dean told him the story; the missing teacher, the play, his wicked hilarious “not a tulpa joke.” When he got to the part about the play, he tread more carefully.

“They decided that, based on those books… You and I are…” he searched for words, but he couldn’t avoid it. “They think we’re in love.” Dean laughed nervously, a bit too loudly. His stomach was in knots and he couldn’t place why.

“Aren’t we?” Castiel asked.


End file.
